Every Wall is a Door
by D4rkD4wn
Summary: Set at the end of Two Towers, What happens when the fellowship finds surviving prisoners in Saruman's dungeon?  Who are these strangers? What are these bizarre devices? And what doors was Saruman opening in his tower?  Switches between canon and AU.
1. Dungeon

***A/N* Hello all this is my first attempt at a LOTR fan fic. Please be gentle with me I bruise easily. I am more familiar with the movies than the books but I have read them several times. If you spot any inconsistencies I cry author's liberty and creative license. I don't want to hear about getting someone's geneology wrong or changing a character's base underlying motive. I am just trying my hand at some crazy sci-fi fantasy ploy bunnies that have been beating my ass for weeks. So here's the first chapter let me know if I should keep going...**

"And I thought nothing smelled worse than the Uruk barracks."

A soft chuckle in the gloom re-acquainted the dwarf with Aragorn's location. In the aftermath of the Ent's last march, the flood waters had receded leaving behind evidence of great carnage, Orc and Urukhai corpses littered the ground and the floors of the lower levels of Saruman's tower.

Saruman the White had met his end is a decidedly less than dignified way at the hand of Grima Wormtongue, fitting as his death was in it's own way it put Gandalf in a bit of a quandry. The newly returned White wizard had hoped to probe the mind of his former mentor and divulge the location of any more artifacts like the palantir Pippin had found. The thought of leaving the tower unattended with hidden magical items ripe for the picking by the inevitable looters and squatters was less than savory.

Gandalf had deemed it necessary to stay a short while to allow him time to scour Saruman's tower for anything that must be safeguarded. It was welcome news to the remains of the fellowship; they had traveled hard days and nights in pursuit of Merry and Pippin who had participated in the last march of the Ents, and all appreciated the chance for a brief reprieve before their departure to Rohan.

Aragorn and Gimli had taken it upon themselves to explore the lower levels of the tower in search of anything that might warrant Gandalf's expert hand. When they entered the barracks that had formerly housed the Urukhai they were joined by Legolas who, after having been informed of the purpose for their search, decided he was more inclined to help them secure the grounds than to assist the hobbits in their noble pursuit of smoking themselves into comfortable oblivion.

After spending most of the day picking their way through debris on the ground level of the tower, the three companions found themselves staring down a staircase that twisted downward into darkness. Aragorn and Gimli halted just inside the doorway at the bottom, it seemed unlikely they would find anything here save more corpses as the slickness on the floor and walls spoke of recent flooding.

Legolas appeared behind them, a pair of torches in hand, Aragorn accepted one and the trio moved deeper into the chamber.

"A dungeon."

The ranger spoke softly as his gray eyes took in the metal bars stretched between squat pillars forming two rows of cells that ran the length of the stone walls. From the smell he could tell this dungeon had been worse than most, the product of Orc hygiene no doubt. He moved toward the first cell and lifted his torch illuminating the bodies inside, they lay there, limbs akimbo, littering the floor within. A cursory glance told him some of them had been dead long before the chamber filled with water and those who had not been were terribly scarred and recently injured.

Aragorn turned from the sight in disgust, he knew not why these prisoners had been held here but he was fairly certain it was not for crimes deserving of such treatment. He saw Gimli in the center aisle turn over the corpse of an orc with his foot resulting in a quiet jingle.

_'Keys.' _

The thought sat in his mind without recognition for a moment before he latched onto it and considered what this find meant. These prisoners seemed to be men thus far, no orcs or dwarves to be seen and closer inspection would tell if any of the elves had found themselves ensnared in this pit. It was only right to pay respects to these lost souls and if possible bury them in the earth so they might return to their ancestors.

"Legolas..." he began, his blonde companion turned and gazed on him with ancient eyes.

"I know mellon nin. We will care for the dead." The woodland prince stooped and detached the keys from the stinking orc with a small grimace and moved down the rows, opening each door without investigating them.

"What do ye think they were kept here for lad?" Gimli's gruff voice echoed off the stone.

"Does it matter now?" the elf's response was clipped his tone strained, "they were terribly misused."

Aragorn frowned and studied the walls which were shining and wet with the exception of the back part of the room near the top, it seemed the floor was not level and there had been a cell that had not filled completely. He moved there first, instincts pulling him insistently knowing if there was any life to be found in this hole it would be here or none at all.

He entered the cell tentatively, eyes roving the gruesome contents with fading hope and then he heard it, a soft and rapid wheezing sound. His gaze locked onto the sound and saw a figure curled up in the corner, he started hard for a moment and then a shudder shook the small frame.

"Legolas!" he cried, "This one lives!" Without a second thought, the ranger rushed forward to investigate the pitiful creature who had survived this dark hell. Legolas on his heels and Gimli picking his way over the filth on the floor to peer at a small pale face who looked for all the world like a battered angel.

The boy could not have been more than 10 years of age, he was in terrible shape, a ragged pair of trousers all that covered him. Blue veins stood out against his impossibly pale skin and dull glints of yellow hinted that his matted hair was blonde. The child's eyes were shut only part of the way and his eyelids fluttered weakly, a hand to the brow revealed a high fever raging in his tiny body, his breath coming is short and shallow gasps.

"Gimli hurry and tell Gandalf what we have found! We must get this child warmth and medicine!"

No sooner had Gimli pounded up the stairs did Aragorn bend to carry the boy from this cesspit; he was amazed they had found anyone alive at all but if they were not swift with his care, all would be for naught. He slid his arms under the child and he made to rise but was brought up short by the sensation of a blade at his throat, he froze, aware of Legolas' cry of alarm drowned out by a rough voice speaking heavily accented common tongue in his ear.

"Release him devil or your blood will water the stones!" The ranger weighed his options, he would feel his assailant on his back, not just holding the blade to him but latched onto him, he could feel the muscles in their arms and legs shaking with exertion and the smell that reached his nose told him this was another surviving prisoner.

Legolas had moved swiftly and reached out to take hold of the attacker but Aragorn's voice stopped him.

"Deri Legolas!"[wait Legolas!"] The urgency in his friend's tone brought the elf up short.

"I mean you no harm." Aragorn's words were level and clear, he seemed to speak slowly and enunciate every word, presumably for the benefit of his assailant. He felt the blade move a hairsbreadth from the soft skin of his throat and he paused a moment to consider the next course of action. Gently he lowered the body of the child back to the floor and raised his hands to show they were empty. The weight on his back did not lessen but he could feel more tremors in the slight body that threatened him.

"The child is ill, we mean to help him." No reply was forthcoming for several agonizing moments and he was aware of Legolas silently maneuvering closer to them, his movements were nearly indiscernible but the blade returned to it's place against his throat and pressed painfully, eliciting a gasp from the vulnerable ranger.

Legolas stopped moving.

"You lie. None here help us. You must leave and let me take him." Aragorn knew this was a demand of desperation, as soon as this prisoner released him, Legolas would become vengeance, swift and deadly.

"Garo renc in." [Hold his arms] He said in sindarin, knowing his friend would understand he did not want this prisoner to die. Without a second of hesitation, Aragorn brought his arm up between the prisoner's knife arm and his body, struck outward with all his strength and bent forward at the waist while pulling on the opposite arm effectively throwing the small man to the ground.

Legolas darted in and took hold of the struggling prisoner's upper arms from behind, he moved toward the stone wall and slammed his captive against it face first, with enough force to make him cry out. The sound of that single cry stopped both of them in their tracks.

Legolas swung his head 'round to look at Aragorn whose wide gray eyes met his own in disbelief, the ranger stood and moved next to his friend, reaching out he moved aside the filthy matted hair from the face of his assailant and gasped.

"A woman?" He said in common as he stared at her delicate features distorted by fear and panic. He saw resignation enter her eyes and was struck suddenly by the knowledge that she fully expected them to kill her now.

"Come Legolas, bring her to Gandalf, he will know what to do." The prince of Mirkwood nodded curtly and pulled the strangely limp female away from the wall,she offered no resistance and did not move save for the ever increasing trembling of her frail body. In spite of this Legolas kept a firm hold on her lest she turn into a snarling cornered animal again and set her down upon her own feet. Turning her to look at him he said

"We are not going to hurt you, do not struggle." He locked eyes with her and waited.

She averted her eyes after a moment and her breathing slowed infinitesimally telling the elf she was beginning to calm, she jerked her head hesitantly which he decided to take as assent. His grip on her arms loosened and he took a gentler hold on her elbow steering her toward the stairs and freedom. Aragorn walked ahead of them, the boy-child's form curled in his arms, he reached the ground floor and turned to wait for the others.

Halfway up the stairs Legolas halted without a word and turned his back to the woman who was laboring for air after only a few steps, it was obvious she was terribly weak and on the verge of collapse. The archer crouched down and held his hands toward her indicating she should climb on the woman slumped silently over his broad back allowing her eyes to slide shut, she was unconscious before he straightened.

Page Break

Gandalf stared around himself at the collection of odds and ends scattered across the chamber. Since the discovery of the survivors in Saruman's dungeon he had intensified his efforts, scouring the tower for clues as to their identity or at least what they were being held for.

A deep frown furrowed the old wizard's brow, the writings he had found made no sense, and they spoke of doorways to other worlds so strange that Gandalf was inclined to think Saruman was trying his hand at writing fantastical legends in his spare time. That was before he found this room, contained within were tools and weapons he had never seen the like of.

The first thing he did was ban the hobbits from the room, it would not do to have them fiddle with something dangerous and take their own curly topped heads off. Mithrandir was intrigued by the ingenious design of some of the items while others mystified him completely. He found this quite refreshing as it had been some time since a puzzle had stumped him so completely.

He had just picked up a strange item that looked like a knife except for the inexplicable fact it was folded in half when the door to the room burst open behind him,

"Gandalf!" cried Pippin, "She's awake!" The halfling was out of breath and hung on the door post as he recovered from his headlong flight up the stairs. His bird bright eyes widened as they darted to and fro about the room shining with curiosity. Gandalf stood and made his way to the door.

"How long has she been awake?" he asked, smiling down on the hobbit.

"Almost an hour now." Pippin chirped. The white wizard nodded and placed his hand heavily on Pippin's shoulder,

"Come Peregrin Took." He said, "Lead me to her side." Pippin's head craned around Gandalf to take another look into the room of treasures,

"I'm sure you need someone to, you know - stand guard here or something….right?" The hopeful note in the halfling's tone brought a smile to Gandalf's seamed face.

"I'm sure should I need someone to guard the mysterious items in that room it would not be you, Peregrin Took."

His gruff voice was belied by the reassuring pat to Pippin's shoulder. Gandalf closed the door firmly behind them and after murmuring a few words of incantation, moved off down the stair with Pippin in tow.

**Please review. Let me know if this is total shit or if I should keep going...**


	2. Awakenings

"How fares the child?" Aragorn glanced up at Gandalf with a grim expression.

"His fever is lower but he still sleeps, it will take more than trail medicine to heal him." Straitening as he finished speaking, the Ranger faced the white wizard, "Should Rohan lack the necessary supplies we will need to take him to the elves."

Gandalf's brows rose, "That serious is he?" He nodded and muttered something to himself before turning toward the second of the two patients. They had been cleaned as best they could preserving the woman's modesty and wrapped up in the softest bedclothes to be found in the tower. The young boy lay still and shrunken looking on one bedroll, his skin pale enough that it bordered on translucence was framed by downy hair so fair and fine it reminded the old wizard of seed fluff in the autumn sun.

It had been several days since the two of them were found in Saruman's bleak prison, Aragorn had related the tale, a touch of respect coloring his tone as he spoke of the half dead woman risking her life and threatening his own to protect the child. It was obvious after a brief inspection that this child was not hers by blood.

She was as dark as he was light. Her skin displayed a dusty bronze color, far darker than any member of the fellowship, Aragorn had first thought her a member of the Haradrim people from the south. In his travels he had ventured there several times finding himself intrigued by their strange culture and vivid clothing. This woman lacked the tribal markings that he knew all females of that kingdom bore, marks of ownership, first to their fathers and then their husbands.

Her hair was dark, still covered with filth from the cell it was hard to tell exactly what color it might be, her eyes revealed themselves upon her waking to be a brilliant green. The iris of her eyes faded into a tawny ring around the edges adding to the striking image she presented, Aragorn wasn't sure if she was beautiful or not. Her lack of proper nutrition and inability to bathe while held captive held great sway over her appearance.

Gandalf moved away from the ranger, settling himself on a stool without a word and gazed at the woman for a moment. She met his stare with her own, tension thrummed through her small frame as though she were waiting to be attacked. Her eyes flicked over his staff and she began to panic, sitting up she scooted herself back across the bedding against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. Gandalf saw this and at once lowered his staff to the floor, eliciting a gasp from Legolas and Aragorn.

Legolas watched this interaction play out before him, he was shocked by mithrandir's actions, no wizard in their right mind would surrender his staff, and certainly not at the whim of some lost girl. His blue eyes hardened and he opened his mouth to speak his mind, Aragorn's hand came to rest on his arm gently, glancing over he saw the ranger shake his head minutely. The elf prince stilled and raised a single brow in silent query. Aragorn frowned slightly and flicked his eyes back to Gandalf and the girl.

_'Look'_

Legolas looked. Back and forth between the two until he saw it, the girl's eyes held a light that had, up to now, been utterly absent. Shrouded no doubt in fear for her life and the life of the boy-child, despite the care they were both afforded; this woman had been ill used indeed to be so very fearful and wary. Legolas doubted her life had been easy even before her removal to Saruman's keep. He held himself in check and watched as the woman finally began to relax, her body language became more open, arms uncrossing, back straightening.

He found himself intrigued by her. She was unlike any member of the race of men he had encountered. She had not spoken a word to any of them since she threatened to kill Aragorn those few days prior, but there was a strangeness that radiated from her like heady perfume. She held a feral air, her face was all large eyes and still features, it reminded him of a wild creature caught by surprise in a glade, ready to bolt at any moment in response to the slightest threat.

Legolas knew any sudden action from him would burst this delicate shell Gandalf had fashioned around the two of them. He had caught her attention and put her at ease with very little trouble and the elf cursed himself a fool to have been focused on the staff. He had missed seeing a master manipulator in action; Gandalf had long been known as a skilled negotiator and mediator for the lords of both men and elves and was more skilled in statecraft than even King Thranduil, his own father.

He stilled his mind and focused on what would now transpire, he had a feeling it was going to be a strange tale.

"How are you feeling my dear?" Gandalf spoke slowly in common, clearly enunciating each word but not falling into the terrible habit of raising the volume of his voice. She was not stupid or deaf, merely unfamiliar with the language. He had begun by speaking to her in every language he knew how to. He began with the languages of men, Rohirric, Dalish and Haradrim alike had no effect; she did not understand what he was saying. He deliberately refrained from moving at all or giving her any non verbal cues.

Gandalf tried Khuzdul, the language of the dwarves and Gimli sat up straighter but held his own counsel. Sindarin and Quenya followed in quick succession, still no marked response from the girl, she continued to listen raptly as if knowing what he was doing but not having yet understood the words.

Returning to common tongue he had decided to put her at ease with a few inquires about her health and offer her a bath.

"How do you feel my dear?"

"I feel...pain." She hesitated as if looking for the right word and seemed frustrated with her limited vocabulary. "There is much pain." she repeated, "Here." The woman turned where she was sitting on the bedroll to face the wall and pulled her tattered tunic over her head until it was in front of her covering her arms and breasts.

Gandalf made a small noise in the back of his throat and without turning, said to Aragorn, "Please gather more healing herbs, it looks as though we have need of them." The ranger took one look and moved off to do so. Legolas' eyes widened and he heard Gimli inhale sharply. Across her back were four horribly infected lacerations, they looked to be several weeks old and the edges were starting to turn.

Merry and Pippin went running toward the scullery to boil water as they had been doing for the young boy the past few days. Gimli moved off to get the bindings they would need to hold the poultice in place. Legolas found himself sitting alone with Gandalf and he asked him softly in Sindarin.

"Where do you think she is from?" the old wizard looked sidelong at him and replied in kind,

"I do not know, she is an intriguing puzzle is she not?" He watched the woodland prince regard her silently for a moment before nodding. The woman was leaning forward with her forehead against the wall she gathered herself and straightened before turning, carefully using the tunic to preserve her modesty.

"My dear, medicine is being prepared for you and we shall tend your wounds soon." Gandalf again spoke clearly to ensure her understanding and had added gestures to help bridge the gap between the words she did not know.

"Please tell me what is your name?" a look of confusion crossed her face and she shook her head indicating that she did not understand.

"Gandalf," he said touching his fingertips to his own chest.

"Legolas" she turned wide eyes to the elf who in turn gestured to her. Understanding flashed in her eyes and she smiled, transforming her face into a dazzling new amalgamation of features. So stark was the change that Gimli who had returned from his errand exclaimed,

"Och, she's such a pretty lass, we might never have known under all that dirt." The dwarf chuckled and set about folding up the bandages he had retrieved.

"Gandalf," she repeated slowly, "Legolas" her face turned toward him and they locked eyes, curious blue with lively green.

"Gimli!" The dwarfs' booming interjection startled them all and the woman began to laugh, the corners of her eyes folding as she looked at Gimli. She closed her mouth for a moment pursing her lips slightly; her hand came up and lay flat upon her chest.

"Keira" Her eyes danced merrily as she looked at each of them in turn, not demurely as other females might have but boldly meeting their eyes. She reminded Legolas suddenly of Eowyn, fierce warrior maidens seemed to be popping up all over he mused. Having been raised alternately in Mirkwood and spending some years as Elrond's forsterling, Legolas knew Arwen to be just a fierce but the she-elf held a soft quietness about her and only revealed her iron spine in the face of crisis.

This mortal before him was different.

All mortal women were different from she-elves truthfully enough, they were not stronger or more brash, rather, they showed these traits much more readily than the females he had been raised with. As a child, Legolas had learned of the race of men as he supposed most elflings did, his parents and tutors required that he know much of their history and there were many parts of elven history that was intertwined with that of men.

He had been warned that men were impulsive, easily swayed and emotionally closed off, their society only allowing them to revel in anger, revenge and battle lust. He remembered being horrified as a child and asking his tutor how men survived without song and celebration. His tutor had smiled at him and explained that men had much song and celebration but it was for celebrating a victorious battle or the death of an enemy and great amounts of alcohol were involved with any celebration of men.

Upon the first few journeys into the world, the Prince of Mirkwood found himself among the men of the west, and it was here in the camps that he learned of prejudice and that assumptions about an entire race were almost certain to be wrong. After being called a knife eared woman several times he had asked the battalion commander why the men called him this, the commander informed him that it was because the elves taught their men to dance and sing and write stories instead of fight and protect their women. The anger that flew into his head was indignant and Legolas found himself spoiling for a fight for the first time in his life.

The fact that he had called for a match to prove his worth and won without hesitation had earned him a place, albeit a grudging one in the ranks of the men themselves. He remembered thinking at that time that women from this race must be weak and easily overcome and how terrible it would be to have your entire life governed by men such as these.

Legolas allowed himself a small private smile as he remembered meeting Eowyn for the first time and again encountering the feeling of being ill prepared by his tutors. The pale woman's fiery defense of her Uncle and keening lament for her cousin's death had illustrated and new facet of women, and men for that matter. They were beings capable of deep feeling and extraordinary loyalty and honor.

Aragorn strode back into the room, herbs and ingredients for poultice making in hand; Pippin and Merry were making their way through the corridor, kettle suspended between them along with bowls and tools for mixing. Gandalf leaned toward Keira and smiled gently at her, her face took on an uncertain expression as though waiting for the old man to pounce.

"I would like to make this easier for you my dear." he said kindly, "Would you allow me to put you to sleep while your wounds are tended?" Her eyes grew wary and darted to his staff which still lay upon the stone floor. "I will not use my staff, there is no need; I wish only to ease your pain while you heal."

Mithrandir locked eyes with the small woman on the bedroll and waited, she stared back at him with a mixture of trust and fear; he had been kind to her. Since she had awakened no one had raised their voice or hand to her in anger, it had been so very long since she had experienced any sort of kindness she felt to her shame tears prick her eyes. Frowning a little she blinked them away rapidly before nodding her head in assent, Gandalf reached forward, hands palm up and waited for her to take them.

Keira inhaled bracingly and reached forward. Her fingertips hesitantly slid into his large weathered hands and she heard the old man muttering something before a soft buzzing filled her ears and she knew no more.

Legolas watched Mithrandir accept the slight weight of the wounded woman as she succumbed to sleep and lower her gently onto the bedding face down. Turning to Aragorn he spoke. "Make sure you check her completely, any other wounds she has must be treated." The ranger nodded and returned to his mixing bowls.

Gandalf stood and once again lifted his staff from the stones; Legolas was aware of being the focus of the white wizards' attention and looked up with interest.

"Come Legolas, I wish you to accompany me and assist in a mystery of sorts."

The elven prince lifted his brows and glanced aver at Aragorn who had begun cleaning the woman's wounds with brusque efficiency, the ranger was wholly absorbed in his task, no doubt calling upon the teaching of Lord Elrond with whom he had lived for a time.

Legolas turned and followed Gandalf as he ascended the stair and returned to the chamber he had sealed earlier. Once the door was opened Legolas stared around him in wonder and confusion, there were weapons and armor stacked on every available surface, sheaves of paper littered everything in sight and he looked over at Gandalf a soundless question on his face. Mithrandir glanced at him and nodded.

"We are dealing with something here that is beyond my knowledge." Legolas gazed around the room in silence.

"What exactly do you wish my help with?" he asked quietly.

"I need a fresh pair of eyes that have seen much and had ages to learn." Gandalf replied with a kind smile. The elven prince nodded and moved off to the wall that held weapons that seemed somewhat familiar. There were swords and shields as well as chain mail and armor that seemed very similar to those he saw daily. The design of them was certainly foreign but nothing that held the same distinct strangeness the woman carried.

The two of them settled in with barely a word to each other, hours passed filled with the sounds of paper rustling like autumn leaves and the occasional clank of metal on metal as items were grouped in like sets. Gandalf stood and stretched, gazing around the room with tired eyes. Legolas followed suit, careful to place the sheaves of paper he was working on in a certain place so he could pick up where he left off later.

He surveyed their handiwork for a few moments. Stacks of similar items lay grouped together; there was a pile of steel breastplates and helms all of which bore the same shield of a chalice upon a field of crosses. Next to this were several other piles of armor and weapons that seemed to resemble each other, a pile of finely carved and sculpted breastplates lay with a series of straight double edged blades but the set that interested him the most was the pile of what looked to be scale armor, woven together with strips of fine fabric and accompanied by fearsome masks attached to the helms.

He couldn't understand the inexplicable familiar feeling to the curiosities collected here. Everything around then was undeniably foreign and strange but there was an impression that even the things he had never seen before were just a logical progression of...something. It was this vague feeling that he found irritated him more than anything else, just as he noted the feeling of alien familiarity in the woman from the cell he realized. He had the feeling her presence was somehow tied to this room and after hours of examining he and Gandalf were no closer to understanding the reason.

The two of them made their way quietly back to the common room near the kitchens, Gimli was reclining with Aragorn sharing a smoke while the two hobbits amused themselves by taking bets on when Keira would wake. Legolas hung back watching as Gandalf knelt down to inspect the woman's bindings, after a few moments and some quiet words, the wizard stood and waited. There was a gentle stirring upon the bedroll before she sat up sleepily blinking at the room around her. A movement caught Aragorn's eye and he glanced over to see Pippin pass Merry a handful of money.

When her eyes settled on Gandalf a flash of unease flickered across them before being suppressed, she looked up at him quietly for a moment and smiled a timid smile.

"You kept your promise." Her words were so soft Legolas almost missed them.

_'She has been badly used._' he thought with a mixture of both anger and pity.

"Of course I did my dear." replied Gandalf, "How do you feel?" There was a pause as though she were mentally assessing each bone and joint in her small frame,

"I feel much better Gandalf." Her voice was clear and almost musical though it remained soft and timid as she sat looking up at mithrandir with an open expression. Gandalf smiled and nodded to her.

"I imagine you would like to clean yourself up a bit," he said "There is a river nearby should you like a bath." The widening of her eyes was almost comical.

"Oh can I?" The relief and near joyous wonder in her voice added another notch in her favor with the elven prince, he detested the hygienic habits of men in general. While they were cleaner than orcs and goblins and even the dwarves in some respects, it had been Legolas' experience that men cared little for bathing while they traveled.

Keira made to stand and got herself almost upright before staggering slightly and bumping into Gandalf, she jerked back to regain her balance and overcompensated. Before he realized what he was doing Legolas darted forward and caught her before she fell, firmly gripping her upper arms before setting her on her feet again. She looked up at him with startled wide eyes and he found himself entranced, falling into the depths of her verdant gaze that was at once the color of spring leaves and forest moss.

He found himself experiencing a sudden feeling of weightlessness and the inexplicable desire to draw the small woman toward him and soothe all her fears and hurts. He knew nothing of this woman save her name yet for a flashing instant she filled his existence, his entire being, body and soul focused on her and her alone.

"You may, I trust Legolas shall serve as a fine escort."

Legolas blinked, the moment was over. He frowned slightly in confusion and looked at Gandalf who merely nodded to him with a small wink and left the room. She squirmed in his grasp and he at once released her; what was wrong with him? He hadn't even realized he still held her arms until she moved. The elf shook his head, gathering himself and offered the woman his arm, she took it hesitantly not sure what was going on in the elf's head, he seemed irritated but she was not sure why.

'I hope it's not something I did.' she thought. Bending down she gathered the spare clothes the hobbits had been able to find for her, they were far too tall but cut for a thin man so she deemed them salvageable, she saw a needle and some coarse thread lying on top of the bundle, presumably from Aragorn's supplies, he seemed to be the only member of the party who would carry such a thing with him. Most of the healing and tending came to him so it would only make sense he have the tools to close a nasty gash.

Shooting him a grateful glance she allowed herself to be lead out from the tower by the suddenly prickly blonde man, content with the knowledge that she would soon be able to scrub the filth and memories from her battered skin.

Legolas kept his own counsel throughout their walk to the river, he watched her silently as her eyes roved over the orc remains they had not cleared away. Her nose wrinkled at the stench and he didn't blame her, he had been surreptitiously breathing through his mouth since they had exited the tower. Much of the floodwaters had drained away over the past few days and the resulting mire was a fragrant one to say the least. The elven prince felt a bit out of sorts, escort duty, even for a lady's bath was not something he was unfamiliar with, being an elf meant that his racial reputation for remaining steadfast and unmoved by lust deigned he be the guardian of choice in mixed company for females alone.

_'And there's nothing different about this one.'_ he thought to himself, ignoring the small movements of her delicate fingers in the folds of his sleeve. They came to the walls of Isengard and as they stepped out through one of the gates Keira halted abruptly and gasped. Thinking her injured Legolas swung round to see what was wrong with her.

She stood open mouthed staring out across the river and toward the trees, he followed her gaze swiftly, hands readying to draw his daggers mentally cursing himself for not bringing his bow. His sharp gaze penetrated the wood and searched; deep in the darkness of the forest he saw...nothing. He frowned and turned back to her confused, she was now looking at him with an expression of awe.

"What is it?" he asked, nerves thrumming.

"It has been a very long time since I saw trees." her reply was so soft he almost missed it and he was again confused. She was of the race of men and couldn't have been in the keeps dungeon for more than a month or two yet here she stood reacting more like an elf to the presence of trees. Legolas was drawn particularly by this wood, he could feel the anger of the trees; smell their hate. He still planned on returning here to explore the wakened wood and perhaps talk with the ents, he was curious about what would cause such heavy feeling in the trees that were so gnarled and old. Older even than those of his home in Mirkwood.

"Am I truly able to bathe in the river?" she asked him then, her voice not quite so soft but still full of wonder. Surprised by her question he looked down at her, puzzled.

"Of course you may," he replied, "You need not fear, I will watch over and protect you milady." As he spoke he took her hand and unwound it from his arm; taking the bundle from her hands he nodded toward the water and then resolutely turned his back, keeping his keen ears open for any possible threat.

Keira looked at him for a long moment noticing the stiff line of his spine and the set of his shoulders; he seemed suddenly carved of marble, muscles coiled ready to leap at the slightest need. She felt oddly comforted that this stranger was willing to protect her, it was a sentiment she had no cause to expect.

Slowly she peeled the ratty tunic from her body and shivered immediately as the early spring breeze gusted over the water, the river was clear and fast moving murmuring quietly to itself as it flowed by. She looked closely at the water itself and the surrounding sand and mud, searching for any indication of poisoning or taint.

Legolas knew from the sounds behind him she still had not entered the water and he was again confused by her behavior. She seemed so eager to bathe but now that she stood on the banks silently shifting her weight as though agonizing over some decision.

"Are you well?" he asked, keeping his back turned. He heard her start and presumably turn to look at him before replying.  
>"Yes….is the water safe?"<p>

"You need not be able to swim, the current is far from shore." he replied. She let out a short huff of air.

"I can swim."

A pause.

"The water is not tainted?" she asked him, a shiver creeping into her voice, as chilled as she was she could not bring herself to don the remnants of the tunic she had so recently discarded. She saw him cock his head to one side, again without turning.

"No milady, the water is pure." The confusion evident in his body language coupled with the matter of fact way he replied convinced Keira and put her at ease. It was something new for her to have clean water available for drinking much less enough to bathe in. Shrugging off her misgivings she stepped into the frigid flow and set about washing herself as quickly as she could.

Legolas relaxed slightly as he heard her commence scrubbing. _ 'Such a strange woman.'_He thought wondering why she would be wary of water and amazed by trees. He held his tongue, content to wait for her to share the reasons behind these things.

Keira shivered hard, the water was frigid and the breeze kept gusting against her flesh. She scooped up sand from the river bottom and scoured her skin until she thought she would begin to bleed. Once finished with her body, she focused on her hair. When she had been taken by the orcs it was long and flowing if she took it out of the ties, not that it was something she did often she had just found that being able to tie her hair back kept it out of her way.

Looking at it now in the daylight she realized it was utterly ruined. Matted and tangled beyond any attempts at unsnarling she realized she would have to cut it off.

"Legolas-" He almost turned to reply but remembered her modesty at the last moment.

"Yes?"

"May I use one of your knives?" Her voice sounded fragile and hesitant.

"Why do you want it?" he asked bluntly, his deeply ingrained protection of his weapons holding sway over his actions.

"I..." she paused, "I need to cut the clothes so I don't trip." It seemed to him like she was not being entirely truthful in her reply but he saw no reason for her to turn on him and even if she did he was certain she would not overcome him. Without turning to look he withdrew one of his long knives and threw it into the sand on the riverbank not far from where she stood shivering in the water, the bundle of clothing followed with a soft thump.

Keira busied herself immediately, working her fingers from the crown of her head downward until her fingertips touched the start of the matting, reaching back with the blade she made short work of the remains of her hair and felt a odd twinge as she watched the current tear it from her and carry it down stream. Giving herself a mental chiding for being so childish about her hair, she leaned down to dunk her head in the water, scrubbed as fast as she could and sloshed out of the freezing river.

Once on shore, her shivers turned to shudders and she fumbled with the leggings, drawing them up around her slim hips and treading the rough cord through holes at the waistline to keep them there. She waddled like a scuba diver in flippers over to a large stone and sat upon it, Legolas' knife still in hand. Cutting quickly and efficiently, she trimmed the pant legs to a suitable length and after tearing the extra scraps into strips and securing them as chest bindings, moved on to the tunic.

Legolas listened to her movements behind him and his keen hearing told him she had stopped shivering quite so violently and was dressing herself. She paused several times as she shook out the different garments and he could almost see her in his head holding up the item and trying to figure out how exactly to wear it. He smirked.

"Legolas, what is this place called?"

"Fangorn Forest milady." he replied, "It surrounds the tower of Isengard."

"Fangorn." she repeated slowly, "Isengard" He noticed the spread of her vowels was different than any accent he'd encountered thus far in his long life. She repeated the names again, softer this time as though tasting them.

"I do not know of these places." she said to him at last. "Oh, I'm done." He turned to look at her and his jaw dropped in shock.

She stood there in borrowed clothes, still shivering and looking at him with a perplexed expression. He was staring at her as though strange horns had just burst from her brow and it made her uncomfortable to say the least. His eyes were so _**intense**_. She felt like a specimen on some scientist's slide waiting to be dissected, it was a feeling that did not sit well with her.

"What?" she asked, shifting her weight and fiddling with the hem of her tunic. He shut his mouth with a snap and blinked at her. Keira was beginning to think he was a bit odd, she could have sworn he was friendly in the tower but since they came outside he acted as though she did something wrong. All stony silences and stiff backed waiting.

Legolas was at a loss for words, he was not a particularly talkative elf but he prided himself on never hesitating to speak when the time was right. Well, the time was definitely right now and he could not form a single coherent thought much less a lucid sentence. She was so starkly different from any member of the race of men he'd ever seen he was not sure what to make of her.

Her skin was the color of a russet forest deer, rich and warm, eyes the color of spring leaves gazed up at him, open and sincere, wide set over a generous mouth and full lips. Her cheekbones were prominent and emphasized the delicate shape of her chin, but it was her hair that caught his attention most fully. Inky black and shining from her scrubbing it reminded him water on a moonless night so deep was it's hue but it's most disconcerting feature was its length. It lay sleek and smooth over the crown of her head and flowed down, coming to a stop at her...chin.

"What?" she repeated a trifle sharply. He shook himself and looked at her.

"You cut your hair." he blurted, a touch of horror lacing his tone. Her hands immediately came up to fiddle with the shorn ends of her hair and frowned.

"So?" He was taken aback by her belligerent reply. Her eyes were now stormy and fierce as if daring him to say more.

"Why did you cut it?" He used a gentler tone this time still utterly perplexed, his people valued luxurious hair and a beautiful voice above most things in this world and to see her uneven chop job pained him greatly. He had never seen a female with tresses shorter than her waist, without realizing what he was doing he closed the gap between then and took a lock of her hair between his nimble fingers.

"It's so beautiful." he murmured. He met her eyes "Was this what you wanted my blade for?" The sadness in his face shocked her, she felt as though she could not move, as though she had broken some unwritten law of this place. She looked away, discomfited by the pain held in this man's eyes; any other time or place she would have tossed her head and scoffed at him for being old fashioned but here...with him that type of reaction did not seem right.

"It's only hair." she mumbled, "It will grow again." Legolas became aware that his closeness was making her uncomfortable, reluctantly he released her and stepped back.

"Why did you cut it?" he asked again.

"It was ruined."

He looked at her for a moment in silence, a mask drawn over his features covering his sadness over the loss of her hair. Without a word he bent to retrieve his knife and once sheathed, extended his hand to her a ghost of a smile on his face.

"The halflings will make quite a fuss over your hair you know." She turned over the unfamiliar word in her mind trying to guess it's meaning through context. He must have realized her confusion for he continued, "They may seem like children but they are fully grown." She looked sidelong at him.

"It will grow back." she said again taking his offered hand and following him back to the grounds of Isengard. As they entered the gate she finally took a moment to look up at the place which had held her for those grueling weeks of captivity, it was a grim and imposing structure that held no warmth or cheer. She did not know what had happened to the white haired old man who had probed her mind so painfully but she assumed he was either dead or gone from this place with his minions.

She was darkly glad that her tormentors lay broken around her, such cruelty she had seen during her time in their care, she would have gladly killed them herself had she been afforded the opportunity. Turning from these macabre thoughts, Keira looked up at Legolas' profile taking in his braided hair and subtle clothing; he held himself proudly, almost regally as they made their way back across the grounds. Noticing his ears for the first time she made a small sound of surprise and he looked down at her, one brow raised in silent query.

"Your ear." she said, "It's pointed." He smiled broadly and chuckled

"Have you never met one of my people milady?" he said. She looked at him blankly.

"Your people?" she repeated.

"Aye, my people are the Quendi, but Men call us Elves." She goggled at him for a moment.

"Elves?" She paused. Though she was unfamiliar again with the word he used she suddenly realized what he meant, her eyes roved over his long hair, fine features and pointed ears. "Unbelievable, is he an elf? He fits the bill that's for sure, tall, slim, graceful, gorgeous. He can't be serious though, get a grip Keira elves aren't even real."

_'Neither are those monsters that dragged you through a glowing portal either.' _commented her mind snarkily. Legolas listened to the stream of unfamiliar words that fell from her lips, she spoke in an undertone that made him think she wasn't aware she was speaking aloud, he contented himself to listen to her speech. The language she spoke was a mixture of hard sibilant sounds and lilting syllables accompanied by wide vowels, it was a combination that was terribly intriguing for the knowledge hungry prince.

"What language are you speaking?" he asked her. Keira looked up startled and blushed. Hesitating she replied to him in common.

"It is the language of my home. We call it English."

"English..." he repeated, rolling the sounds around and tasting them as she had earlier. "And what land does this English come from?"

"Well...England." Legolas looked at her as they came to the stair leading into the tower thinking that she might be of use to Gandalf in his quest to understand the puzzling items in the room on the upper levels. He held his own counsel and simply led her back into the warmth of the tower.

As soon as they entered the room Keira was accosted by the hobbits. Pippin and Merry peppered her with questions in common so fast she couldn't keep up but their youthful exuberance was infectious and she smiled broadly.

"All right young hobbits ease off! You'll send her round the bend if you're not careful." came a gruff exclamation from Gimli around his pipe. Legolas looked to Gandalf and said in Sindarin

"She may know something about the things in that room." Mithrandir looked sharply at him and then at the girl who was trying to keep up with the hobbit's chatter.

"Where are you from? Your skin is so dark, look Pippin, her eyes are almost the same color as yours! You're shivering, was the river cold?" The two halflings kept up a steady bombardment of commentary as they handed her a blanket to wrap herself in and some salted pork and a heel of warm bread.

Keira didn't even try to reply, just gnawed hungrily on the bread and listened.

Aragorn moved over to speak with Legolas, "What happened to her hair?" he asked quietly. The Ranger was acutely aware of the elves' love of beautiful hair and voices, he was also aware that the woman's hair had been longer when she left to bathe.

"She cut it off." the prince replied in terse sindarin, "She says it was ruined." Aragorn admitted that it likely was, after the filth and treatment she had endured but he understood his friend's pain. Her hair was even shorter than the ranger's own.

"Keira." All chatter ceased at the sound of Gandalf's deep voice and the woman looked up at him. "Would you come with me my dear? I have some questions I think you might be able to help me answer." a look of apprehension crossed her face and she look over at Legolas. He was struck by the fear in her eyes that she was attempting to hide and responded to it.

"You need not fear him Keira." he said to her, "He is not like Saruman and will do you no harm." She swallowed convulsively and looked again at mithrandir. Stepping forward she nodded followed the wizard up the stairway to an arched doorway. Gandalf muttered a few words and the doors opened to reveal the room he and Legolas had been working in.

Legolas had shadowed them and now stepping into the room, drew Keira with him, he was just as curious as Gandalf to find out the purpose for the things here and for some reason he thought she would know at least a little. The two of them turned to look at her.

She stood stock still in the doorway, eyes roving over the contents of the chamber. She walked in and slid her fingers over the shining breastplates and armor. She was talking to herself in an undertone again making her way around the room touching some of the items almost reverently. She came to the items Gandalf had been organizing and moved a few things from one pile to another before coming to a stop at by far the strangest grouping of items.

Keria stopped and turned to look at Gandalf.

"Where did you get all of this and why are my things here?"

"I beg your pardon?" he replied.

"These are my things that were taken from me!" she said sharply pointing to the pile. "Why do you have them?" Her tone was harsh and demanding but Legolas could hear the fear that tore at her.

"Keira." he said. Her eyes met his. "This was gathered by Saruman, the one who held you captive and we are trying to understand why." The fire in her eyes diminished. "Do you know what they are?"

She nodded.

"They are weapons and armor from my home; some are very old and have not been used for a very long time."

"What is this for?" chirruped Pippin. Keira swung round and gasped. She crossed the room in a moment, blanket slipping from her shoulders as she lunged at Pippin who was staring down the barrel of a revolver. No one had noticed the hobbit slip in the room and as she grabbed the weapon from his hands she shouted at him.

"This is not a toy!"

Pippin was as startled as the rest of them and they all stood in silence as she manipulated two small levers on the weapon and breathed a sigh of relief. She proceeded to depress a button and shake some bits of metal from the contraption. Keira put the revolver down and looked at Pippin, the hobbit was looking at her as though she had slapped him and she immediately felt sorry for shouting.

"I'm sorry Pippin." she said, "That could have killed you." He looked wide eyed from her to the hunk of metal in her hand.

"You know what these things are then?" said Aragorn

"Yes, they all belonged to warriors and soldiers once. Some are still used but most are old and kept only for memory." The small woman hugged herself round the middle in a sudden display of insecurity and shivered though not, Legolas thought from a chill in the air.

Gandalf watched her silently. Mithrandir was no fool, this woman was connected to all of this somehow, he needed to find out why she was pulled from wherever she hailed from to end up in the dungeons of Saruman the White. He frowned.

It was time to get some answers.


	3. Her Story

***A/N* Now we get to hear Keira's story. Many thanks to my lovely Beta Creature of Shadow!**

_***Last Time* **Gandalf watched her silently. Mithrandir was no fool, this woman was connected to all of this somehow, he needed to find out why she was pulled from wherever she hailed from to end up in the dungeons of Saruman the White. He frowned._

_It was time to get some answers._

Keira looked around at them all, and Aragorn was struck by the lost expression that filled her eyes. Just as he felt lost within the sea of expectations, she seemed cut adrift in this place. Her mind was racing and she fought down the urge to panic.

Everything around her was utterly surreal and yet terribly familiar at once. _'Great.'_ she thought. _'I finally get whisked away from my hellish life and get thrown into another.' _She was having a very hard time coming to grips with the evident fact that she was definitely not in Kansas anymore. Her mind had been focused on survival throughout the recent weeks. During her imprisonment, she had kept to herself, talking to the boy who shared her cell and ignoring the leering stares and lurid comments from her fellow prisoners and guards alike.

She did need to speak their language to know what their intention was. The only time she got any peace was when they slept, she would sing the child to sleep whenever she saw him drifting off and strangely the men had ceased their roaring and fighting. Keira sang her lullabies and the soldiers in the dungeon listened raptly, but always stopped short of asking for her to sing again.

Some sort of antiquated male ego thing she supposed. Truthfully the singing was the only thing that preserved her tenuous hold on reality and preserved her sanity just enough that she didn't go stark raving mad and beg the orcs for death. Something she was sure they would have obliged her gladly.

"I think." Gandalf's voice interrupted her inner monologue. "It is time we heard your tale my dear." She felt swallowed by his gaze. Legolas watched trepidation cross her face and shifted ever so slightly toward her as though he wanted to lend his strength.

"I…I don't know where to start." She supplied, hoping to buy herself a reprieve to think the timeline over herself before sharing it.

"Why not start with the beginning." There was a gentle smile in Gandalf's tone which helped put her at ease. "Where are you from?"

Keira took a deep breath and let it out heavily. Looking down at the pile of her things she reached out and slid tentative fingers over her clothing.

"I am from a place called England." she began.

"What sort of place is eng-land?" interrupted Pippin.

He and Merry had immediately drawn closer to her, intrigued by the prospect of a story they'd never heard. The two of them were sitting at her feet looking for all the world like two starry eyed children waiting to be swept off to a fantastical world in her tale.

She felt bad she would be taking them to such a terrible place.

"Well." she replied. "It is an island country far to the north. Once it was green and damp and beautiful." She paused and took a seat on a stool proffered by Legolas and wrapped her blanket tighter 'round her shoulders. Aragorn and Gimli had settled in with their pipes once more, content to listen to her tale they appreciated the brief reprieve from their own conflict and trials.

"England had a Queen and was a great power in the world, fighting off mighty armies and tyrants who threatened their freedom. The English once controlled much of the world, including my ancestors' home."

"What happened to it all?" asked Merry.

She smiled at him. "What happens to all empires eventually." Her smile faded. "It fell."

She saw understanding on Legolas' face and wondered how old he was. She knew elves were long lived, but all she had to go on were myths and legends from her childhood. Shaking off this train of thought for later, she continued.

"The modern England was a melting pot of cultures and races."

"So there were men and elves and…." Pippin's question died off into silence as she shook her head at him.

"No Pippin, there are no elves where I come from." His round eyes flicked form her to Legolas and back."There aren't any orcs or Hobbits either."

"Truly?" Aragorn sounded disturbed by this.

"What of Dwarves, young miss?" Keira furrowed her brow.

"There are some men who never grow taller then you are Gimli, but I do not think they are the same as your people." She paused trying to find a diplomatic way to say this. "Men call the small ones dwarves or midgets, but I don't think you would recognize them as your kin."

Gimli harrumphed and muttered something sounding suspiciously like 'imposters' before settling back again and puffing on his pipe.

"England is home to many different races of men." She went on. "The Englishmen are not so different in appearance from Aragorn. Darker hair, pale eyes and skin, although there are some who have hair the color of fire or gold. They tend to be from other outlying islands to the north and west."

Keira self consciously touched her shorn hair. "Then there are people like me from far to the south and east where the sun is fierce and hot. Our skin is usually brown like a nut."

"And your hair is like ink!" blurted Pippin. "I've never seen anyone as dark as you!" Merry's swift elbow caught him in the ribs "Ow! What was that for?"

"Real smooth Pipp." Merry hissed.

Keira laughed."It's fine; there are other races of men whose skin is nearly as dark as my hair." she replied smiling at their shocked expressions.

"You said this empire fell…" Gandalf's gentle prompt brought Keira back to her story.

"Yes." She replied. "But it was not just my country, but the whole world fell into darkness." Legolas watched shadows crowd themselves across her face and fill her eyes. "I was teaching class when the bombs fell."

"Bombs?" Legolas's single word inquiry reminded Keira that she had not seen any technology to speak of here.

"They're a small dense object that when dropped explode with the force of many, many fires." She winced inwardly at her simple explanation. "These weapons are terrible things we never should have created, but once we had them everyone made as many as they could afford." She was quiet for a moment.

"How many fell?" Aragorn asked thinking of the black powder that had almost proved to be their downfall during the battle for Helm's Deep.

She laughed; it was short and devoid of humor. "Enough to kill all men 10 times over." The loss in her words struck all of them.

"What sort of dark magic could do this?" wondered Legolas aloud.

"No magic." she replied darkly. "Just the arrogance of men."

How could she explain to them the desolation and death that came with the war. She realized she had made herself numb to it, in fact she had not considered the implications of the destruction.

"I was teaching when one of my fellow teachers came rushing into my classroom and told us all to hide under the desks." She swallowed. "We had known for weeks that war was brewing and had been drilled in emergency actions. We all dropped to the floor and took shelter. As soon as we did so the world exploded. "

"The windows burst, showering us with razor sharp glass and the roof collapsed as the walls crumbled. The only thing that kept me alive was my desk. It was a solid heavy thing, much thicker than the newer desks for the children." Keira stopped talking for a moment and cleared her throat. "When I was finally able to get out of the rubble I called for the children. Digging though the stone and metal wreckage I called for them till I could no longer shout, and then till I could no longer whisper."

"Did you find any of them?" Merry and Pippin's eyes were wide with horror.

"Yes I did." she replied, squeezing her hands into fists. "But it was too late for them. None survived."

The room was deathly silent. Keira struggled to keep her voice steady. "I'm not sure how long I sat there, holding the body of…" she paused, frowning. "Peter." she said finally. "Peter Goldswain." She breathed deeply. "I finally left him there when my hunger was too great to ignore anymore."

"I was lucky I suppose." she said. "My school was on the outskirts of a small city near London, our capital. The bombs were dropped on the city proper, we were on the edge of the damage. I visited my family first, the closer I got to their homes, the dimmer my hope became. All around me were charred ruins, everything was burned and dead, but what bothered me the most was the silence; it was like the earth just died. There was nothing left."

Her voice broke for a moment and Legolas felt his heart go out to her. He could not imagine such a terrible thing. He was suddenly aware that he admired her strength. He did not know how long ago this was, but her demeanor was not that of someone who had lost everything dear and precious to them.

"I found the bodies of my parents and my sister. Then I stopped looking. I wandered the city for several days, eating what I could find that had not been destroyed and drinking from what rivers and streams had not been boiled away by the blast."

"The streams were boiled away?" It was Gandalf this time. He had seen many things in his long life, but never a fire so fierce it boiled a stream into non existence.

Keira nodded mutely. "The water made me so very sick. I collapsed in the road and waited for death to take me. That's when I met Clive." Legolas felt something uncurl within his gut and lurch unexpectedly. "Clive found me and took me to his shelter where he nursed me back to health over many months."

"Once I was well again he told me it was time for me to earn my keep." She blushed. "I thought he meant to ravish me, but he merely took me out to the wastes to hunt." A dry chuckle rasped in her throat. "Once he realized I had never so much as held a gun, he began to teach me."

Their puzzled expressions perplexed her for a moment before she realized she had used the English word 'gun' having no translation in common tongue. She shifted on her stool and leaned out to the pile of her belongings. Keira fished out her rifle and held it across her lap so they could see it.

"This is a rifle." She said. "This gives me the ability to strike things from a long distance away very quickly. Clive showed me how to aim, steady my hand and breathing to fire straight and true. He also taught me how to defend myself a little with a knife."

As she spoke, an admiration crept into her tone. Clive had been her savior and a gentleman. He had spent his time before the bombs teaching rich people survival skills; he had been a special ops soldier many years before, and turned his expertise into a lucrative business. Clive had been almost ten years her senior, a large burly man with rusty colored curly hair and lively blue eyes. Once she realized he didn't expect her to be his woman, she had warmed up to him easily.

Clive had been raised in the rough and tumble streets of London's East End. His childhood had prepared him for his military service and for this new world they lived in better than anything else could have. He taught her many things, including lessons on the darker side of mens hearts. The more she learned about her savior, the more horrified she became.

As the trees died and the never ending cold descended upon the wasteland, slowly leeching the color from the world, Keira watched her connection to the only friend she had whither and perish quietly in the shadows.

There was a dark side to Clive that she hoped with all her might would never be turned on her. Seeing him butcher a nest of bandits simply for the enjoyment of inflicting pain made Keira's insides writhe. Clive terrified her, but she depended on him to survive so she said nothing, did nothing. What never ceased to amaze her was his ability to make her think he was normal again. He used to tell her she was the deadliest schoolteacher in the world, it always made her laugh and protest that she was no such thing. Each time she felt at ease, inevitably, Clive would unleash his brutality on another hapless target; Keira had known it was only a matter of time before she would bear the brunt of his irrational rage and she needed to be away from him before that happened.

"How long ago did this happen?" Aragorn this time.

"Almost six years." Keira gathered herself and slogged ahead to the more recent parts of the story. "Clive and I found the boy in some ruins a few days before I was taken. Poor kid was skin and bones when we found him, refused to speak to either of us."

The kid had actually derailed her departure plans. After many months of planning she had finally polished her plan enough to be confident of it's success.

"I had to beg Clive to take him with us." she said almost to herself. "He wanted to leave the child for the scavengers to take."

Legolas' lips parted in an unvoiced utterance of anger. Children were precious no matter their origins, to even think of leaving one to die if starvation was appalling to him. A quick glance around the room saw his feelings mirrored on the faces of all Keira's listeners.

"Why would he do such a thing?" cried Pippin in horror.

Keira looked at the hobbit with a gaze so filled with sadness, Legolas felt a tug in his gut. His stormy eyes watched her face move itself into a position that held less sorrow, but the anguish in her own verdant gaze shone forth.

"He believed the boy would die anyway and then we would have to bury him. He called it a waste of precious energy." Her voice was tight and controlled.

"But you were able to convince him otherwise?" Aragorn again.

"No." A small shake of her head. "I just picked him up and started walking. I told Clive I would do the extra hunting for food and he didn't have to worry himself over the child."

"And did that work?" Merry chimed in.

Keira shrugged, a short but graceful movement. "I don't know, the boy was only with us three days before those orcs came to take us." She noticed Gandalf move ever so slightly and realized that he desperately wanted to know what the other wizard had been up to. "I was outside our home returning from hunting, Clive had gone scouting to find a new location for us to stay. We moved every few months to avoid detection from the roaming packs."

"Packs of what?" asked Pippin.

"Ease up young hobbit!" Gimli grumbled again. "She can't get her tale out if you keep pestering her."

Keira shook her head gently and answered the question anyway.

"People." she said flatly. "There were packs of people who were tired of hunting for animals." She saw him open his mouth to ask.

"They were hunting other people." She said it without inflection and those words sent chills racing up their spines. Keira found herself the study of six pairs of incredulous eyes.

She shifted uncomfortably. "So yeah, the orcs appeared just as I was getting to my door, I had no chance to even fight back. I was bound and held while they went inside and grabbed anything that looked interesting, including the little boy. 'To persuade me to cooperate' the uruk captain said. We were taken to a place not far from there and waited for several hours before a portal was opened."

Mithrandir listened, if , even more intensely than he had been as yet.

"Once on this side, we were stripped of everything we had and I was hauled in front of Saruman." she shuddered minutely. "He was terrifying!" Her voice grew heavy and dark. "He asked me questions and when I refused to answer, he stole the information directly from my mind."

It was clear this had shaken her deeply. Legolas considered the effect this chain of events could have to the grip on one's sanity. He found himself amazed at her willpower and hardiness. By the valar, the woman still had enough spirit left to threaten Aragorn's life, he didn't want to know the horrors it would take to break her. Moreover, he had no desire to see her endure any more pain or suffering. He found himself surprised by this, and scoffed inwardly at his foolish thoughts.

"What did he ask you about?"

Keira looked over at Gandalf with a wry smile. "Nothing I should not have told him. Simple things like what year it was and what my home was called. He asked me about fighting and if I was a warrior. When he dove into my head, he saw everything I knew. I imagine he was looking for different types of soldiers and warriors to make the orc better."

Gandalf sat up a little straighter. "What makes you say that?"

"The men in the dungeon with me were from my world, but not my time, Gandalf." She waved her hand toward the piles of armor and weapons. "They spoke many different languages, but even the one who spoke English, he and I could barely understand each other because he was speaking a much earlier version of the same language."

"But how..."

Legolas' query was interrupted by Gandalf in a gruff voice. "I've almost deciphered Saruman's writings, won't be long now."

"Won't be long until what?" Her voice sounded thin in her own ears.

"Until I am able to get you back to your home where you belong. Your presence here is not natural."

"Oh." She felt a stab of regret. _'I suppose it was silly to think I could stay. I don't even know anything about this place.' _ She frowned, thinking hard. An image of Clive floated across her inner eye, scowling at her. Visions of a stained wasteland filled with death, of small dark holes in the ground to hide in crowded around and would not relent.

_'Not that I have anything to stick around for anyway.'_ She thought of the terrifying orcs and urukai, the cries and screams of the dungeon. She found over the weeks that she would recognize the word for mother in almost any language. All but the most fierce of men had cried out for their mothers before the torture ended their lives.

Legolas' countenance came into her thoughts unbidden. His intensity and ancient eyes drew her like a moth to a flame. It frightened her. The immensity of her emotional reaction to him was a welcome sting, jarring her free of the dark contemplations of the evils both worlds shared.

The elven prince became subtly aware of the girl's eyes on him. Her gaze was fleeting and not repeated, but it seared him just the same. He could hear the reluctance in her to return to the place which spawned her tale of sorrow and struggle. _'She should not have to return to that horror.' _he thought.

Almost as though he knew what they were thinking, Gandalf spoke first.

"I do think it's about suppertime." His eyes slid over to Merry and Pippin. "Don't you, young hobbits?" the troubled expressions on both their faces were wiped away at the mention of food.

"What's for supper?" Aragorns' gentle tone shook them from their silence.

"Oh we've got stewed coney and potatoes with a bit of salted pork and fresh apples on the side." Pippin said on his way out the door and down to the kitchens.

Keira allowed herself to be led from the room, but only after collecting what was left of her clothing and body armor. She had been safe thus far in the care of these people, but she knew from bitter experience that this world was harsh and dangerous. If the others kept their weapons and armor near at all times, she thought it only logical that she should follow suit.

When they reached the bottom floor she was immediately ambushed by the two hobbits, who settled her down with a plate of food and proceeded to ask her questions as fast as she could answer them. They wanted to know what her home was like before the war and if she had a sweetheart waiting for her. They peppered her with tidbits from their own home, a place called the Shire, which from all accounts sounded like Ireland. Keira allowed her mind to be distracted by their boisterous tales of mischief and accounts of their travels thus far.

Aragorn took this opportunity to speak with Legolas. He had noticed his friend watching the mysterious woman intently and was curious about what he saw.

"Melon-nin..."

Legolas looked at him, at once responding to his native tongue automatically.

"She is fascinating yes?"

The elven prince gazed hard at Aragorn for a short moment. "She is...strong."

The ranger heard a hint of sorrow in his friend's tone and wondered about it. The woman's tale had been a sad one bereft of hope, but the world she described was so fantastical he had a hard time identifying with it. Legolas' eyes returned to Keira as she kept up lively conversation with the hobbits. Their conversation would stop and start after new words were explained, and almost automatically she was giving them the translations for her own tongue.

_'She carries such burdens, but still has time to laugh and teach others.'_ Legolas found himself again amazed at this woman's resilience. _'Such a shame she must return to her world, it sounds utterly wretched...' _He let this train of thought trail off into nothingness. It would not do to become attached when her time with them would be so brief.

The moon hung low and light in the predawn sky. The air whispered to itself sweet nothings full of the promise of the coming day. Legolas stood silent and still upon the balustrade, savoring the final few moments of the night's watch. They had remained cloistered at Isengard for longer than they anticipated. Gandalf drew closer with each passing day to understanding and being able to open the door to Keira's home. The remains of the fellowship grew restless, and Keira spent most of her time tending to the child who had yet to awaken.

Aragorn feared for the boy's life and spoke with Legolas and Gandalf of returning for a time to Imladris, where the boy could benefit from Lord Elrond's expertise. Gandalf had disagreed immediately saying that if he did not unravel Saruman's writings soon they would need to leave for Rohan as soon as they were able.

All he would say was "Events are already in motion that we cannot ignore." before immersing himself again in his studies.

Legolas spent his time hunting in the wood and honing his archery skills. With each foray into Fangorn Forest, he further solidified his vow to return after the war and re-acquaint himself with the trees and their memories.

A small sound drew him from his musings. Looking over, he saw Keira's slight figure, lean and lithe in the moonlight. She stood with her back to him gazing out over the wood and mountains beyond. He stood and moved silently toward her. as he approached he deliberately made a soft sound with his foot alerting her to his presence. She did not respond.

"Keira."

Her head jerked a little and she replied without turning. "Legolas."

A small frown furrowed his brow and he stood next to her in silence and just waited. It was evident to him based on her taciturn response that something weighed heavily upon her mind. He looked down at the top of her head and lost himself for just a small moment in the play of the moonlight on her shining black tresses.

"I do not want to return." It was a bald statement, full of unspoken desperation. "There is nothing for me there," she continued, "nothing but more death." Her gaze wandered over the treetops and down to the river murmuring quietly to itself in the pre-dawn stillness.

Legolas sensed such despair from her in that moment he grasped her shoulder in an unconscious attempt to stop her from throwing herself off the parapet to her doom.

She read his intention clearly and laughed, a short brittle sound.

"I do not desire an end to my life Legolas." she said. "Merely a chance at a better one."

"Surely there must be something you miss about your home."

She jerked her shoulder from his grasp and stepped a small way apart from him. "I miss everything about my home, I miss my family, my friends, the trees of the wood and the song of the sea!" Her small frame shook, and he could not tell if it was from the passion of her words or the chill of the morning air. "I miss music and the feel of rain on my face...the laughter of children-" her speech cut off as though a door had slammed shut.

His heart went out to her as he recalled her account of digging children from the rubble.

"But I do not belong here..." her words came out so plaintive and small he felt his gut twist. 

"Keira."

"No, don't Gandalf is right. I should not be here but I...I wish I could stay."

The elven prince found himself at once understanding the truth of her words but confused as to why she would wish to stay in a place where she had been so mistreated. "Keira, why do you want to stay so badly? What holds you here?"

She turned at this ad looked at him, the sky behind her a pale color heralding the coming dawn. Her expressive eyes spoke to him without words.

"You have an enemy here." she said. "You know where you must go and what you must do to defeat him without question." She breathed in slowly. "I wish I had an enemy to fight such as this."

Her eyes held him. Still and cautious, as though she might bolt if he moved too quickly, Legolas stepped toward her and met her gaze with an intensity that made her shiver. "You should not need to fight Keira." he whispered. "We cannot drag you into our war."

Her face fell and in the instant before she turned away from him he saw a bitter pain enter her eyes. "No I suppose you can't." she replied. She looked back at him again but the spell had been broken, and she smiled at him crookedly. The kind of smile that only existed to stop tears.

"Come." he said placing an arm around her shoulders. "Dawn has arrived and the hobbits will be making breakfast." She allowed him to guide her into the keep without comment. He respected her silence, and did nothing to try and coax her to speak. She had much to consider.

Upon entering the keep and arriving in the warm kitchen, they both settled into the hearty meal the hobbits had prepared. _ 'If there's one thing a hobbit can do better than any race, it's present a cozy home in the strangest of places.'_ Legolas thought with a smile.

He watched Keira from the corner of his eye and was glad to see that she had relaxed somewhat and was eating well. As they finished breakfast, Gandalf cleared his throat and looked at Keira. She straightened, much of the tension returning to her small frame. Silently, she waited for the wizard to speak. she was pretty sure she knew what he was going to say, and had spent the last few days preparing herself for this, mentally stamping down any hope that she could stay with ferocity and resolve.

"The time has come my dear." he spoke gently, but without preamble. "I have deciphered Saruman's writings and will be able to open the door to your home." She kept still for a few beats before replying, and when she spoke, Gandalf admired her control, knowing full well she did not want to return.

"Alright." she said. "Let me get my things."

"Oh, not quite yet my dear." Everyone at the table looked at him. He looked back at their confused stares with a small crooked smile. "Can't send her through if I don't know that it leads to her home, now can I?"

Keira felt the tension within come close to breaking. Gandalf seemed oblivious to his moment of unintentional cruelty and moved back to the stairs.

When it became evident no one was following he stopped and turned. "Well, come along."

They all sat for a short moment before the hobbits trotted from the room, curiosity brimming in their eyes. Keira stood without comment and walked from the room, leaving Legolas and Aragorn to trail in her wake. They all assembled in one of Saruman's imposing receiving rooms and waited for Gandalf to finish his preparations.

Keira unconsciously drew closer to where Legolas stood silently with Aragorn, and when she realized what she was doing, she moved with purpose to stand with them. Aragorn glanced over with mild interest and watched the way Legolas responded to the petite woman. She stood a little ahead of him, to his left and the elven prince automatically touched her lightly at the small of her back. A touch that she thought nothing of. She reciprocated his silent connection by moving even closer to her encouraging his hand to slide toward her waist on the far side where it rested comfortably as she leaned into his chest.

This struck Aragorn, as he had never before been privy to the elven prince displaying interest in a female of any race. He was always impeccably polite and held propriety at the forefront of his interactions. Displays of affection were rare among elves when not in private, which made Aragorn resolve to ask him about it later.

Gandalf stood once all the pieces were in place and looked at Keira with a sad smile. "I will need you to tell me if the place shown in the portal is your home. I must ensure I have the formula right and can repeat it before I will send you through."

Keira nodded and swallowed silently. Her green eyes watched him as he began some form of ritual. It was unlike any she'd even seen or heard of in movies, but oddly familiar never the less. Gandalf muttered several incantations under his breath and the air in the chamber suddenly began to swirl around them, catching Keira's newly shorn hair and leaving a net of stinging nettles across her face.

She shut her eyes for a moment in self defense.

A step, a shout and a thunderclap.

All sound and motion stopped abruptly and a brilliant light erupted from the center of Gandalf's work. A shimmering, pale yellow light spun to form a portal suspended several inches above the polished marble floor and Keira looked into it with wide eyes. In the center of the swirling light was the image of another place. A familiar place, to her dismay.

Legolas felt her tense up beside him and applied gentle pressure to her hip. He looked at the image floating before them, and was shocked to his very bones. She had told them of the destruction and the death, but this seemed too severe to be real. Before he was able to say anything, she moved. One hesitant step at a time she moved forward and he followed. Once Legolas moved, it was as though a spell had been broken, and the others drew near as well to get a better look at the world on the other side.

"Does this place look familiar my dear?"

His voice made her frown, looking intently at the image before her that wavered and rippled like water. She was looking desperately for anything that was incongruous with the hellish world she called home. Sadly, every detail was just how she remembered it. Colorless, desolate and terrifying. She nodded to the wizard and reached out to touch the surface of the image.

To her horror, before her skin made contact with the portal, the surface of the image reached out and caught her fingertips. Keira pulled back reflexively and succeeded in pulling her hand free with a jerk. A silvery liquid clung to her hand and a few drops were flung through the air, coming to rest upon the green of Legolas' jerkin. His eyes snapped down and she watched as he rubbed the liquid curiously with his own lithe fingers before looking back at her in confusion.

His stormy eyes settled on her hand and widened. She followed his gaze and let out a strangled sound. The shining substance was stretching and expanding. Sliding up her skin, it encased nearly all of her right arm and the other end was extending out from her fingertips through the air to rejoin with the surface of the portal. Keira felt her throat get tight and panic being to rise.

Tearing her eyes from the portal she was again struck by the emotion on Legolas' expressive face. The shimmering piece of the portal he had touched was expanding on his body was well, not just on his hand but across his torso and legs. They were both being pulled inexorably toward a world he knew nothing of, save it was bereft of hope, yet the look in his eyes was only for her. It was an expression of determination and camaraderie that strangely lifted her spirits and terrified her all at once.

Who was she to deserve such loyalty and support?

She could dimly hear the alarmed cries of the hobbits and Aragorn, and she saw Gandalf leafing through scraps of paper with great urgency. She didn't have her weapon, he only had his long knives. Her mind flashed the images of his bow and quiver leaning against the wall in the dining hall. They were about to be in a very bad situation, but she strangely wasn't afraid. He would be with her.

He saw a small ghost of a smile flit across her features before being replaced with a panicked light. The portal had a firm grip on both of them now and was pulling them through it relentlessly. The parts of his body that were encased instantly grew unbearably cold and drove the breath from his lungs.

She craned her neck and turned her head away, reaching out with her left hand for assistance. He reached for her, grabbed her hand and was aware of Gandalf shouting to the others not to touch them.

She looked at him, and as the liquid filled her mouth and covered her nose, their fingers interlaced and they were pulled through with violent force.

Legolas was not sure how long he lay there with his eyes shut. He had attempted to open them after feeling solid ground beneath him. The air smelled pungent and dry, and a strong metallic taste in his mouth told him he was bleeding. His first attempt to open his eyes presented him with a world that was spinning to rapidly, it was all he could do to not empty the contents of his stomach.

Keeping his eyes shut, he listened instead. He could hear Keira's harsh breathing not too far from him. She was moving around and he heard small stones underfoot and odd clanging sounds. There was a mild breeze stirring wayward strands of hair across his face. He swallowed hard and breathed deeply to still his roiling belly.

He became aware of a shadow over him and opened his eyes. Thanking the valar the world had ceased to spin, he squinted up at a familiar silhouette. Keira crouched next to him, perched upon some rubble. Her eyes were locked on the horizon, roving back and forth, her mouth set in a grim line, her body tense. Following her cues he checked his knives and stilled himself before stretching his senses to _**see.**_

The wasteland that met his eyes stole the breath from him. His mind rebelled and for a terse moment, refused to accept what he was seeing. Nothing moved. Nothing shone. No birdsong floated on the breeze, no bustling sound that should have accompanied a city as the one she described. Jagged bones of buildings jutted forth from the landscape like broken tombstones.

Legolas stared. His soul cried out, searching for trees or the spirits of nature. Nothing was left to answer his call. He felt carved out and hollow, his skin brittle and suddenly on the verge of shattering.

"Legolas."

Her voice came to his ears, quiet and urgent. He turned to look at her. Those beautiful eyes of hers gazed at him with such intensity he had no choice but to listen.

"We must not stay here." she said evenly. "It is not safe...the packs..." Her voice trailed off and she willed him to understand and follow her lead. She didn't know how they did things were he came from but she desperately hoped he would follow her and not cling to some antiquated male dominant custom.

_'The packs?'_ he thought muzzily._ 'Packs of what?'_

He was hit with a flash of memory. She was telling her story and Merry had asked just that question. Her reply had shocked him speechless and did so again. _'People.' _she had replied._ 'They hunt other people.' _

His mind began to rebel and it took all his self control to look at her again and reply. "Do you know where we are?"

He saw a flash of relief in her eyes and filed it away for later scrutiny.

"Yes I do." She scanned the horizon again. "I'll lead you, but you must follow my steps exactly. There are bombs in the ground sometimes that have not yet exploded."

His eyes widened and he looked around. He withdrew his long knives and made to hand her one, but was stopped by a shake of her head. She smiled at him in thanks, but gestured with a cylindrical piece of metal she held in her hand. Even though he had not seen a weapon quite like it before he could see the value of it's compact hefty weight.

It was suddenly crystal clear to the Prince of Mirkwood that he was in a wholly unfamiliar place and would have to reply on Keira to guide him. Taking in the hard alertness in her eyes and the ease with which she handled her improvised weapon, he didn't think that was such a terrible thing. She moved off silently through the rubble and he followed with care wondering what perils this world held for them.

**A/N Till next time! Please review...it's motivates me!**


	4. Barren Wasteland

**A/N Great Galomping apologies for this being so late. I didn't die I was just held hostage by work, moving 3 times in one year and writing my own novel. I'll let you know when it's out :-) **

Legolas followed silently behind Keira as she cautiously made her way through the rubble that lay strewn on the ground. Several times she stopped and dropped behind an outcropping and he followed suit immediately. She did not speak unnecessarily and the elf had to admit to himself he was glad of it.

His brain struggled to make sense of the things his eyes saw. Everything around them was bleak and still save the occasional dust eddy stirred by a feeble waft of air. The light of the sun was obstructed by a dense gray cloud that seemed to cling to everything. No birds sang; his ears could not discern the sound of a single creature besides the two of them.

Keira scanned the horizon with watchful eyes. They were nearing the hideaway she had been abducted from all those months ago; she found herself less frightened that she thought she would be. In the weeks leading up to her intended escape from Clive she had spent sleepless nights worrying about her survival chances, about his anger; even about the wisdom of her decision. She doubted her own prowess and strength and as a result had eaten herself hollow from the inside with fears and doubts. So she was pleasantly surprised at her own aptitude and the ease with which she navigated the wasteland. She chalked it up to Legolas. There was no room for weakness and uncertainty when you were being relied upon. She glanced at him. He looked rather shell-shocked and she felt a pang of sympathy. She knew the feeling.

Keira realized belatedly she had not given him a single word of explanation for anything that surrounded them. Turning her head she spied a small clearing in the rubble and settled down into it. Legolas followed her closely and crouched next to her, looking the opposite direction. He turned to look at her immediately when her fingertips ghosted over the back of his hand, a questioning look in his eye.

"I'm sorry Legolas." She whispered.

"Why do you say this to me?" he replied quietly. She looked at him, taking in the rigidity of his muscles and the hardness in his eyes.

"I've not told you anything." She said, "I want to explain to you where we're headed and about the dangers we face here." He blinked; did she really believe this was something to be sorry for? Before he could protest she began again to speak.

"The reason we're walking so carefully is that there are small….bombs hidden in the debris, sound also carries a vast distance here and we do not want to alert others to our presence." His face was perplexed for a fleeting moment before his eyes widened. He remembered her story and glanced quickly around them.

"What do they look like?"

"They look like everything else." She sighed "dirty and worn, broken and rusted." She bit her lip. "We are making our way slowly to one of the places I hid with Clive, it's nearby and odds are it's also empty." She shifted uncomfortably at the thought of squatters but they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

"Why do we go there?" He asked her.

"It's better than being in the open, and it's close to where the portal was so we can easily check on it." She looked around them again, peeking over the broken stone and metal. They were hunkered down in what used to be a churchyard. Bricks and cobbles littered the area interspersed with support beams and charred remains of pews. They had been walking for less than an hour she guessed and it shouldn't be too much farther to the hole. She remembered using the church as a landmark before and was homing in on the location of the door. She saw Legolas looking at everything around him with suspicion and wariness and though it might leap out and bite him at any moment. Refreshingly there was no fear in his eyes, only alert determination.

Keira shifted her weight, looked about and then rose to continue. Legolas followed suit, mirroring her footsteps precisely. They walked on in silence for another few minutes before she paused and scanned the horizon one more time. He wondered what she was searching for in the waste. "The packs…" she murmured to him as though hearing his thoughts. For a short moment he didn't comprehend what she meant…_"Packs?" _he thought, _"Packs of wh…Oh." _He nodded to show he'd understood. She reached out and squeezed his hand lightly and then tugged. He followed her down into what seemed to be an underground tunnel.

Water dripped down filthy curved walls made of corrugated metal, small points of light filtered through minute holes in the walls illuminating dust motes as they floated through the stale air. Legolas watched the play of light over Keria's skin as she moved through the gloom, entranced by the stark contrast her living skin made with everything around them. They moved quietly and deliberately through the tunnel until she came to a stop in front of a debris littered part of the wall. Keira stared at the wall for a moment before reaching out and moving a particularly large piece of rusted metal aside to reveal a very solid looking door. She took a calming breath and considered their best course of action for a moment. She knew from experience that it was next to suicide to enter a hole alone but she wasn't sure if Legolas would be a help or hindrance in this alien place.

"Legolas, I need you to remain here while I go inside." He frowned at her.

"Why?"

"To alert me if anyone is coming from above, we can't both be trapped inside." His eyes met hers and held. He looked at the door and then down the tunnel the way they had come. Exhaling slowly he again met her verdant gaze.

"How long before I should follow you?" She looked up at him and smiled.

"Only a few minutes, I'm only checking to see that it's empty and if there are supplies there for us." He nodded to her, jaw clenched, obviously ill at ease with this arrangement but he trusted her judgment. She was startled by the strong wash of gratitude that flooded her, he didn't even know her yet he placed his trust in her. It was something that she hadn't experienced for a very long time and she was somewhat ashamed by the stinging of tears that followed.

Ducking her head to hide the sudden gleam in her eyes, Keira opened the door slowly, remembering to stop three quarters of the way to avoid the loud groaning of the hinges. Without further hesitation she slipped into the dark room and began to inch her way through the familiar corridors and chambers. She moved cautiously, stopping every few steps to listen for telltale sounds of inhabitants.

She knew squatters were ruthless and desperate people. They did not hesitate to kill anyone who encroached upon their hideaway. She gripped the cool smooth surface of the pipe she carried as if to reassure herself of its presence. Moving further into the underground complex she made do with what little light filtered into the silent gloom. Then she saw it.

Rows upon rows of cans and foodstuffs. She smiled in the dark and moved forward, she had no reason to remain quiet, this was the deepest room and while it was obvious that someone lived here, they were not in evidence. She lowered her makeshift weapon and cast about for a bag. Relief swept through her as she began selecting enough food for the two of them to last a few weeks at least. She didn't know how long it would take Gandalf to re-open the portal but she was certain he was working to get at least Legolas back.

Keira was unaware of eyes following her every move. Angry eyes. She continued on oblivious to her observer, while he crept up behind her. Her only warning was the feeling of her hair standing on end before she was shoved hard against the shelf in front of her. The half full bag slipped from her fingers and she was spun violently around to face her attacker. She was met with the sight of disturbingly familiar cold blue eyes, Keria felt her heart rate speed up and stout fingers wrap tightly around her neck.

"Clive!" she rasped. He responded with a feral showing of teeth, not something that could be called a smile, rather more like a grimace. Keira could feel something wet sliding down her face and the pounding of her head where it had hit the shelf almost drowned out everything else. She struggled for breath and kicked her legs feebly, stilling only after his low chuckle pierced her consciousness.

"Well look who decided to come back eh pretty?" He growled. "Thought you put one over on old Clive did ya?" Keira didn't have enough breath to reply and focused instead on breathing. "I have to tell ya lass, you tossed me off your trail cold you did. Forget to take sommat eh?" She pushed at him ineffectually with her fists, he leered down at her. "Took just about everything, who 'elped ya? No way you could carry all that yourself." He shook her. Hard. The edges of her vision were starting to gray out due to lack of air. "Looks like I'll just have to take what's due me yeah? Think all that training was free? Posh bitch!" Keira felt his meaty hand insinuate itself under her tunic and grasp painfully at her breast. Panic rose up within her and she began to fight him in earnest, Clive laughed darkly at her efforts and continued on.

Legolas froze in the stillness of the corridor. He had heard something and he wasn't sure if it was something to pay attention to or not, so many strange sights and smells lingered in this place he didn't trust his ears to alert him to danger. He judged it had been long enough for her to explore on her own and so followed her path into the dark doorway. He moved silently and efficiently, taking care not to bump into anything and alert anyone to his presence.

He moved further into the dark rooms listening intently. He heard a rasping voice full of fear that made his skin prickle. That strained voice was answered by a lower, darker sound. He did not need to understand the words to read the sadistic undertone from the one who spoke. The elf was instantly on guard and moved around the corner of one of the walls. He looked into the room where he could hear the hushed tones, the scene that met his ancient eyes stirred deep anger in him.

Keira was being held harshly against a shelf by a stocky ginger haired man, his left hand squeezed her throat whist his right explored her feminine charms. Legolas looked into her eyes and was enraged, her consciousness was fading fast and blood covered her lovely face from a gash on her brow.

He moved without thought.

One second Keira was suspended by her throat so close to being blissfully unaware of her surroundings, the next she was on the cold stone floor gasping for breath. Her own breathing was harsh in her ears and the room spun mercilessly. Slowly the gray on the edge of her awareness receded and she heard the sounds of a pitched struggle.

Clive stared into fierce eyes of a man trying to take his life. There was no doubt in his mind that if he slipped or gave an inch he would die here on the filthy concrete floor. He had been surprised to see Keira again, he figured her a goner. Either she was dead out in the wastes somewhere or she had found new partner. Apparently this was her partner. Clive sneered. Once he overcame the element of surprise he realized he outweighed his opponent by at least 50 kilos. The blond man drew a pair of wicked looking ornate knives and Clive was able to avoid the first few strikes before being caught on his forearm. He felt his skin part deeply and lunged at his attacker with a snarl.

Keira rounded the corner just in time to see Clive tackle Legolas and both of them go flying. She saw the elf's' head crack against the floor and his eyes lost their focus. Clive reached over and retrieved on of the beautiful elven long knives, "Well look here lad, these are pretty things and no mistake." He turned back to Legolas who lay reeling on the floor, "Let's see if they do the job eh?" Keira watched in horror as Clive pressed the point into the top of Legolas' chest and drew it down across his torso. She looked around frantically for a weapon, something, anything to get at Clive. There. She scrambled over to the doorway and retrieved her own makeshift weapon, trying to ignore the large amount of blood escaping the body of her savior she crept toward the two of them.

Leglolas had regained his head somewhat but was pinned beneath the bulk of this vile man. One meaty hand was wrapped around his throat while his arms were trapped by the brute's knees. He felt lines of fire as the sadistic man cut into his skin, he struggled without success to break the hold on his air supply. He began to see spots dance in his vision.

Then he saw her.

Keira loomed in the weak light just behind the man's head her face was a picture of bloodstained determination and fear. He saw her move forward with the fierceness of a tigress, murder shining in her eyes. She brought the heavy pipe down on his assailant's skull with a sickening crunch. Pressure released from the elf's throat sent a sudden rush of blood back into his foggy head sending him spiraling into blissful darkness.

Keira stood over Clive's still form breathing heavily. Her fingers gripped the pipe tightly and her eyes remained glued to him waiting for him to move. Adrenaline was coursing though her system, eyes dilated and every muscle screaming for release from her tense stance. Clive didn't move. She cautiously took a step forward and craned her neck to see the damage wrought by her hand. Once the top of Clive's head came into view she allowed the heavy pipe to slide from her fingers landing with an echoing clang on the concrete floor.

The top of his skull was bashed in so severely she could see bits of brain matter mixed in with the dark blood spreading over the floor. Her knees suddenly weak, Keira crouched down sitting on the back of her heels and hugging her knees and fighting the urge to vomit. '_He's dead.'_ She thought. _'I killed him.'_ In her time since the bombings she had killed her fair share of people. It had been easier than this. Most of them had been far away, brought close only by the sight on her rifle allowing her some illusion of isolation from the whole affair. She had knifed a few hunters and scavengers as well but this was only to protect herself from the same fate. This was different. Clive lay dead because of her. She had crushed his skull with her own brute strength. Her stomach roiled and she spat out a mouthful of sudden saliva. Legolas shifted then and groaned.

_'Oh shit.'_ she thought eloquently. Her attention shifted immediately to her injured protector. He was absolutely covered in blood, his fine golden hair was now filthy and matted in piles beneath his body. His body which was still pinned beneath Clive's bulk. Keira's brow furrowed at this new dilemma. Clive easily tipped the scales at around 130 kilos and she stood there shaking, a mere slip of a girl still malnourished and wasted from her stay in Saruman's dungeons. Legolas moaned again but did not stir otherwise, she reached over and touched his face. His skin was clammy and chilled. She knew one thing for sure, with the amount of blood he was losing she had to get him off the cold floor and bandaged up or he would die.

Galvanized by this revelation, she rose from her crouch and took hold of Clive's now limp arm; his body lay across the elf's torso as well as his head and shoulders. Since he had been kneeling on Legolas' arms he had fallen forward heavily and Keira couldn't imagine how hard that was making it for Legolas to breathe. She knew she wouldn't be able to lift him so she settled on trying to roll him off. She pushed his arm back toward his spine and continued to push at his shoulder as it was lifted. She succeeded partially ending up with Clive twisted in two directions as though doing some morbid pirouette. His legs and hips still pinned Legolas but at least she could see his face now. His beautiful eyes remained closed and unresponsive. She moved with urgency now taking hold of Clive's leg she heaved with all her might and finally prevailed in freeing the elf.

Turning back toward him she let out a hiss. Clive's handiwork was displayed across his chest and stomach in gruesome relief. With shaking hands she lifted one of the graceful blades responsible and took great care cutting away his tunic. Once finished she moved off to find something she could use as bandages and perhaps some water if she was lucky. When she returned from her scavenging she lay her supplies next to Legolas who seemed not to have moved a muscle.

Much of the blood had begun to dry in the chill air; she had been fortunate enough to scrounge up a canteen of precious water. She worried for a moment about the purity of the water, it could make him terribly ill with irradiated water. She shook off her indecision. _'Won't do him any good if he bleeds to death while I'm making up my damn mind.'_ she thought wryly. Keira set to work cleaning the crusted blood from the edges of his wounds, the flow of blood had slowed considerably and only oozed out when she applied pressure. Once she was certain his wounds were as safe from infection as she could make them, she retrieved a crude sewing needle and some cord she had split three times to thin it out. A few times during her stitching he twitched and several muscle groups jumped involuntarily when she pierced his flesh.

Once finished, she set about covering her handiwork with bandages. It was backbreaking work, he remained limp and unresponsive as she struggled to prop him up against the wall without aggravating his injuries further. After much straining and tugging she had him positioned in such a way she was able to wrap the bindings around his torso, securing the bandages to his newly sewn wounds. Panting she took a moment to look him over, his color seemed a little better but she could see the sheen of sweat on his brow and chill bumps coursing over his skin.

She knew he had to be warm else all her struggle would have been for nothing. _'Piss poor gratitude that would be.'_ she thought. She again ventured into the dark rooms adjoining to find something, anything to keep the elf warm. Shaking off the increasing buzzing in her ears, Keira was able to find several blankets and a length of rip cord. She returned to Legolas' side and set about creating a cocoon for them. Stringing the line from a broken piece of concrete above them down to wrap around a large piece of rubble. Moving efficiently she lay one of the blankets on the concrete to insulate them and draped a second over the rip cord creating a makeshift tent.

Carefully she lifted Legolas' upper torso and dragged him over to the shelter. She lifted on side of the drape and sat on the floor before pulling his limp form back toward her, she did this twice, scooting back each time to keep the blanket in place. Once they were underneath the shelter, Keira carefully wrapped the remaining blanket around Legolas before collapsing in exhaustion. Her last thought before darkness claimed her was a fuzzy realization that Clive must have hit her harder than she thought.

Blue eyes opened slowly and took in their surroundings without comprehension. Light was dim and presented itself in odd shapes that did not make sense to the brain attached to those eyes. Lids slid shut one more. Synapses began to fire with increasing rapidity and his eyes opened. Legolas stared up at a surprisingly low and...fuzzy ceiling. His brain resisted but he flogged it into motion. Upon inhaling he was seized by a sharp pain in his chest that left him breathless. Memories flooded back, Keira's attacker slamming him into the ground, his consciousness beginning to fade as he was strangled. Her fierce and terrified face covered in blood beating the man off him.

It was this last image that brought him fully awake. Keira. He became more aware of himself with each passing moment and realized he was lying on something soft and warm. He twisted his neck as far as he was able and was reassured by the sight of her arm draped over his shoulder, small fingers curled around his collar in slumber. He considered her nut brown skin shining in the muted light. Slowly he sat up, testing each muscle group as he did so. The burly man with the rust colored hair had done considerable damage to his chest and judging from the large amount of dried blood in evidence he had been severely injured. Gingerly, he inspected the bandages that encased his torso, they were well administered and seemed to be helping his own natural healing abilities immensely.

Keira shifted her position and muttered something in her sleep. He looked over at her and then really took in the details. She was still covered in blood, it matted her hair to her brow and soaked through her shirt and trousers. She slept fitfully and was covered in a sheen of sweat. He watched as she shivered and mumbled again shifting uneasily. Legolas covered her with the blanket across his legs and exited the shelter to get his bearings. He was took in the impromptu shelter she had constructed for them and found himself surprised by her ingenuity.

He studied the room that housed them and almost immediately saw the body of their attacker. His corpse lay face down in a pool of presumably their mingled blood. Legolas felt his lip curl. Taking a step toward it, he leaned over to get a good look at the man's face. He was taken aback by the savagery of the blow that had killed him. A flash of memory brought Keira's face to mind, bloody and murderous. She had ensured that he would never trouble them again, most of the man's face was distorted beyond recognition thanks to the massive trauma he had suffered. The elf found lifted the impromptu weapon she had used and was somewhat surprised by its weight. The cylindrical item was surely metal but he could not imagine it's original use. Setting it down, he moved back into the room Keria had initially been searching for provisions.

There was a bag on the floor that was partially full of more cylindrical metal objects, a few had rolled out of the opening and Legolas puzzled over them. They were made of a different metal and had exquisitely detailed paintings wrapped around them depicting different types of foodstuffs. Cocking his head he frowned at the item wondering if this was another result of the bombs she had spoken of. Deciding to ask her for the answer once she awake and they were safe he replaced the cans in the rough woven sack and made his way back the his sleeping savior.

She had not stirred but her breathing seemed alright and beside the gash on her brow, she seemed otherwise uninjured. He reached out and shook her gently. She did not respond. He repeated the action with more vigor and when she failed again to respond a small stab of concern struck him. Head wounds could be deadly, she should not be sleeping. Lifting her torso up he tapped a hand against her face. "Keira." he said urgently. Her eyelids twitched feebly. "You must waken Keira." His voice was louder now and he shook her hard. She let out a small groan and cracked her eyes open before letting out a string of words in her native language none of which sounded particularly polite.

He helped her sit up and watched as her eyes slowly focused on his face. Blinking rapidly she seemed to get her bearings and then looked at him intensely. "Legolas." she said as though remembering who he was. Her hands came up and checked the bandages on his chest gently before her frame relaxed and she looked around. Keira saw the cans she had dropped in her tussle with Clive and her stomach had an immediate and loud reaction. Not bothering to be embarrassed, she wriggled out of his grasp and set about searching for a can opener.

Legolas watched her in confusion and after trying to put together all the pieces he decided to just wait and see what this puzzle became. Keira returned with an odd metal contraption in her hand and a triumphant expression on her face. "Can opener." she said by way of explanation and he watched as she selected one of the mystery pieces of metal and latched the thing onto the edge. She began to turn the crank and comprehension dawned on his face as he watched the metal part before the blade.

She removed the lid from the can of peaches and held it out to him with a small grin. He took it from her and hesitantly sniffed the contents surprised at the sweet smell that met his nose. She chuckled and began to open another can. Legolas watched her dip her fingers into the now open can and followed her example, he had never tasted anything quite like it. Fruit, surely but with a mildly unpleasant metallic aftertaste. They worked their way through two cans each before they felt like themselves again.

"Keira."Legolas began carefully. "I must ask you, what is your plan?" She looked at him for a moment before busying her hands with replacing the foodstuffs into the bag he had retrieved.

"We are not far from where the portal is." she said evenly. "This is the same place the Orc troop took me from in the first place. That," she jerked her head in the direction of the very dead man in the room. "was Clive." Legolas frowned at this but kept silent. "We will go every day to the place where the portal opens and wait." He nodded, knowing Gandalf was certainly going to re-open the portal. He couldn't imagine the political mess that would result from his disappearance not to mention Aragorn and Gimli were probably beside themselves with worry.

"We have enough food here to last us for a while." she said gesturing to the shelves. "We will return here in the night to keep hidden." He remembered the roving packs of men hunting men on his own this time. Keira stood and walked around a wall. He could hear her rummaging around in something out of sight. "Ah!"

He stood to see what she had found and was confused again. This was becoming a regular occurrence, one that he did not like. She was holding another weapon like the one in Saruman's tower, she had called it a rifle if he remembered correctly. Along with several other items he had never seen the like of before.

She grinned at him. "I knew that bastard would have something we could use." He watched as she opened and closed chambers on several of the weapons and did other mystifying things. She held out a very strange looking bow to him. Not as large as his own, this one had several pulleys on it and was made of some unknown material. He inspected it closely before drawing it back. He was astonished at how easy it was to draw. He looked up to see her watching him with a small smile on her face.

"Not quite the same but it should do for now." She tossed him a quiver made of what looked to be hardened black canvas. He caught it without difficulty and set it next to the bow. She held up an oval shaped metal item and lifted a small ring on the side. "Don't pull this out unless you're ready to throw this far from you." He looked at it skeptically. "It's a small bomb." He looked at it again in horror, moving back slightly. She smiled sadly and shook her head. "Not like the bombs I told you about. Much smaller." He relaxed slightly but decided to keep away from those just the same. It was his experience that trying to use a weapon you weren't familiar with was a good way to get yourself killed.

Legolas was out of his depth and he knew it. Looking at the dwelling they were in with the strange smells and sounds around him he had never felt more alien and out of place. Without the woman in front of him he would have been lost, most likely dead. He leaned forward and took her hands in his before bowing over them. His brow touched her knuckles briefly before he straightened and looked at her.

"Thank you." She stood dumbfounded just looking at him.

"For what?" she asked. She had dragged him here, endangered his life, taken him from his home and almost gotten him killed. What the hell was he thanking her for. He released her fingers and gestured at the bandages around his torso.

"For caring for me , I owe you my life." He looked pointedly at the dead man.

"Oh. Um...you're welcome but if you have not been here I would be dead as well so I suppose that makes us even?" She gave him a lopsided grin. "Let's get everything ready for tomorrow and try to get some sleep." He nodded and set about organizing the food back on the shelves and rearranging the bedding. He found a few more blankets and soft piles of fabric and added them to their makeshift tent.

He turned around to see her emerge from another room in different clothing, free of bloodstains and relatively clean. A dark ring of bruises stood out around the column of her throat. Behind her the door to their hiding place was shut again and she had strung a cord at ankle level in front of it covered in the cans they had eaten out of. Her ingenuity struck him yet again. She approached him with bandages and motioned for him to turn around. He complied and she began removing the wrap around his torso.

She cleaned and redressed the wounds on his chest efficiently and once she had finished, handed him a loose fitting shirt. He pulled it on and settled down inside the tent. She joined him and wordlessly lay down beside him. Laying on his back he slowly allowed his muscles to relax bit by bit. "Goodnight Legolas." she spoke softly and turned toward him. Her eyes dark in the shadows regarded him for a moment before placing her hand on his upper arm. "We will get you home." she murmured. He covered her hand with his own for a brief moment in wordless thanks before drifting off into a shallow slumber.

**A/N Review! Will he get back? Of freakin' course. Will she? Stay tuned...**


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